


Winter in the City

by StarlightOnInk



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, RusAme, russia's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 23:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11262870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightOnInk/pseuds/StarlightOnInk
Summary: America launches a surprise celebration for Russia's birthday even away from home. Turns out a wintry night in New York holds a whole array of tender possibilities.





	Winter in the City

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small rusame oneshot for Russia’s birthday.

**Winter in the City**

“America, can I at least fix the blindfold?”

“No! You’ll peak!”

“America, it’s starting to cover my nose.”

“I’ll do it then.” There was a pause. “Stop scrunching your face, man.”

“Your touches are tickling.”

“Shouldn’t have told me that.”

“Don’t you dare.”

A mild scuffle ensued in which America attempted to tickle his blinded boyfriend. Russia retaliated by landing a firm smack to America head.

“Ow! Hey- can you see through that? How’d you hit me?” America rubbed at his nose, giving Russia a wide berth for fear of another hit.

Despite his predicament, Russia gave a sly smile. “I can smell your last meal on your breath, solntse.” He took a loud sniff. “Double cheese pizza, extra garlic, and pineapple. The toppings you reserve for a special occasion.” Russia’s oversized nose crinkled in disdain.

America scowled, flicking at said nose, causing Russia to make a swipe for his hand. “Hey, I brushed my teeth.”

“I can smell your shampoo too.” Russia took a step forward, bumping into him. “Strawberry. It suits you.”

Though America rolled his eyes to his unseeing boyfriend, there was no holding back his grin. It stayed with him as he once more grapes Russia’s shoulders and continued to guide him to his birthday surprise. “Shucks, that’s sweet of you to say. But now it’s back to no talking- c'mon, I want you to see this!”

“It would have gone faster if you just let me see.”

“What did I just say about no more talking?”

Russia shook his head, but allowed America to lead him on, warning him of any steps or turns he needed to make along the way. In truth, Russia had been quite surprised America had planned so much for his birthday- and had kept it secret for so long. When excited about something, Alfred couldn’t wait to tell everyone about it. Strangely, he seemed very excited about giving Ivan his birthday gift. It perplexed Russia even now that the American would be so anxious to do something like this for him. When questioned about it, Alfred had merely shrugged, throwing in that blinding smile for good measure as he said “Hey, a hero lives to see his lover happy.”

America was always doing things like that, Russia mused as he was led around another turn. Always throwing in comments that seemed too kind to be true, with no hint of a lie detectable.

“Any guessed as to why I had us come to the Big Apple?” came America’s confident drawl as they came to a stop. Strong fingers reached up and began undoing the fabric covering Russia’s eyes.

Russia shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll tell me though.”

The blindfold was pulled aside and Russia’s gaze was filled with dazzling lights, but strung from the massive Christmas tree, and sparkling in Alfred’s eyes. “You’ve never seen the Rockefeller tree, babe! We’re going ice skating right in front of it, then having a stupidly fancy dinner, then I got us tickets to see the Radio City Music Spectacular!” Alfred gave one of those infectious smiles that made Russia want to cover with his own lips. And so, that’s exactly what he did.

“Thank you, _dorogoi_ ,” he murmured into Alfred’s mouth.

“Mmm. Don’t thank me yet, babe.”

Russia pulled back to eye the other nation closely. “I admit I’m slightly surprised you did not take us to the ballet. That’s your usual surprise for me.”

Color blossomed across America’s cheeks, staining them an attractive pink. “I got tickets just in case.”

At this, Russia’s amethyst eyes widened. “America, how much did you put into this? A night at home would have been fine!”

But America waved away the protests, not wanting to hear any of it. “Hey, your job is not to question me and just enjoy tonight. Besides, we’re heading home after all this for cake and your present.

“And what would that be?”

“Top secret, sorry, babe.”

Russia found out why America told him not to thank him during the performance, when the participants lined up and held up signs reading “Happy Birthday Ivan” and a spotlight shone right on him. Even with how cool the building was, Russia felt his cheeks blaze with heat. He slid down as far as his large frame would allow, face buried in his hands, mouth uncovered only enough to recite a whole slew of threats against Alfred, who merely grinned merrily beside him, flashing the performers a thumbs up.

Dinner turned out to be the Russian Tea Room. Ivan felt a stab of satisfaction; Alfred loved using these little cultural nods as parts of his presents. But his sympathy for America wallet made him insist on covering tips. Back home, the two curled up by the fire, where Alfred presented his gift of a handsome silver pocket watch, an ornate floral design covering both sides; on the face behind the hands was a brilliant yellow sunflower. Russia wasted no time in enveloping America in a fierce hug, placing kiss after kiss in those honey colored locks he so loved. America took it all in stride, beaming at Ivan’s joy, rubbing his back and breathing into his ear, “Happy Birthday, big guy.”


End file.
